As I got home I could feel the fatigue setting in, the worry and sickness I felt bearing down on me. Unsure what exactly had happened I quickly brought the Patricia suit into the house and shoved it in my closet. Eager to get some rest so that I could think clearly about everything. I lay down with worry gnawing at my mind for hours at the possibility of a missing persons report, or whether I'd rationalized it all as a mental breakdown for vehicular manslaughter. The idea of sleep far away until my body finally shut down long enough for me to fall asleep.
I woke up the next morning afraid to open the closet door. "No.... it's not there.. she's okay and it was all a bad dream. If I open that closet and see that wierd skin suit it will all be real". Ignoring the closet I run downstairs and grab some toast from the counter. I'll simply head to her dorm and check on whether she is there. If she isn't then I'll come back home and figure it out. Just as I'm about to step out of the house my mother calls to me, "hey, are you alright? You look pale as a ghost". She moves over to me and caresses my cheek with her soft hand, and then feels my forehead.
"You seem a little cold honey", she adds in her velvety voice.
My mother was a MILF, everyone said so. Her olive tan skin, waspish waist, and perky D cup breasts sat atop a voluptuous pair of hips and thick thighs. I hated when people reminded me of this, and pulled back from her touch.
"I'm fine, thanks mom, just... rough night covering for a co-worker is all", I reply casually.
Eager to be on my way I give a smile quickly and pull back, "I'll be right back. Just got to check on my co-worker and see if she is still good to return to work tonight".
My mother gives me one of those understanding looks as if she knows what's really happening. Michelle always got that excited look when I brought up Patricia. As I raced out the door trying to avoid any further conversation she moved away with a chuckle to finish cleaning the house. Her eyes tracking every deviation from the order she worked to maintain. Michelle wanting to do something nice for her son, went upstairs to go and tidy up my room. Regardless of whether he was just lovesick nervous or actually coming down with a cold she cared about me. As she walked in my room she noticed the unmade bed, soaked in sweat. She pulled off the sheets, and picked up various rain soaked clothing items from the floor. Opening the closet to put all these dirty items onto the laundry bin she nearly had a heart attack. What looked like a deflated body of a girl lay folded up on top of one of the piles of clothes. She picked up the lithe little thing with some difficulty. The Weight negating any attempt at minimal contact. Her mind racing as she could see no blood, but hairs still standing up at the back of her neck about what the hell this was. Dropping the dirty linens into the bin she lay out the bodysuit on my bed and noticed the fine zipper running just above the ass along the center of its back to the neck.
"What is this? And why would my son have it? It feels so.... real and... warm", she said running a finger along the skin of the bodysuits shoulders. My mother pondered whether this was something I had always wanted... if I would sometimes dress up in this thing to pretend to be a woman. Wondered how effective it was at making the wearer fit...